


but who can name the face

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Series: long live the fast times (chatfic extended universe) [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Introspection, M/M, Other, Soft Goro Halloween, Soft Goro Week, Trans Akechi Goro, Trans Male Character, akira is also trans but less relevant bc it's not from his pov, part of a series but you don't need to read any others first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: The Phantom Thieves (still thieves several years later, even with the Metaverse gone) go to a masquerade party. Goro reflects on masks.OR,Ryuji looked Goro up and down critically and said, “What’re you supposed to be, a sexy plague doctor?”Goro shrugged. “At least I’m a sexy one. Could be worse."
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: long live the fast times (chatfic extended universe) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808446
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	but who can name the face

**Author's Note:**

> technically part of the chatfic extended universe but you absolutely don't need to read the others to understand this one, which takes place a couple of years later and the main thing that's relevant is the name of the Phantom Thieves' group chat
> 
> written for the Soft Goro Halloween 2020 event (prompt: masks/costumes)
> 
> the main inspirations for this were that bit in Dishonored where you sneak into a fancy party and sign your name in the guest book despite being a wanted fugitive, the entire television show Leverage, and a very good black feathery beak mask I found at Spirit Halloween

Goro was running late, just by ten minutes or so, not enough to cause Akira any serious alarm but enough that he was a little bit annoyed with himself, years of living on a painfully strict schedule too deeply ingrained in him to be wiped away by a few years of his boyfriends insisting that he could sleep in _ just a little later, please, Goro, it’s so cold out and so warm here under the covers _ . Anyway. He was fashionably late, as Ann would say, and she was a model so he supposed she ought to know. Well. She was sometimes a model, mostly retired unless a designer with an especially interesting idea came along, and now she preferred just to use her connections and expertise to help out on Thieves jobs.

This wasn’t a job, fortunately, though his usual punctuality was an asset on those. But for once, the party was just a party, and they were invited guests, only there to have a good time, and it was therefore fine that he was now eleven minutes late because it was harder than it looked to put a mask on so that it sat correctly on his head. Magically appearing outfits weren’t usually the part he missed about the Metaverse, but at least then he didn’t have to worry about whether or not his beak was crooked. Or about whether or not his jacket was tailored correctly to not give him dysphoria, because what was the point if your will of rebellion wasn't gender affirming, but having friends who accepted him for who he was, a boyfriend who cared less about passing than he did, and fewer reasons to give a fuck about what other people noticed about him made that easier in the real world too. Also, Ann's fashion contacts meant she knew a tailor who could get his clothes to fit perfectly.  


**_definitely not the phantom thieves (10 members, 3 online) - 10/30_ **

**Goro:** Running a little late, be there in a few

**Futaba:** ur not missing much :/

**Futaba:** ok well. u missed the tempura shrimp bc yusuke and mona ate all of them and they were really fucking good so like. at this point why bother

**Ann:** noooooo you need to get here and see everyone’s costumes everyone looks so cute and we need a group photo

**Goro:** Yes to go on our public facebook page for advertising purposes, so that people who hire us to do crimes know we have a sense of style

**Ann:** wait that’s a good idea actually!!!!

The costume party had been Haru’s idea, even though it wasn’t technically her party. But she had suggested it to the organizer, a socialite whom she’d kept in contact with even after the board of trustees had forced her out and she’d cut ties with most people from that side of her life, because apparently she still hadn’t outgrown the person she’d been in high school. Not that she was the only one, Goro had to admit, given his own outfit right now, and also the fact that the Phantom Thieves were still thieves, except now they worked exclusively in the real world. If you wanted to get technical, Futaba still worked in the virtual world as well, but that was an argument he’d had enough times in person and didn’t need to have inside his own head as well. What he needed to do was get inside the party and find Akira and Ryuji before they came looking for him.

He showed his invitation to the bouncer, who looked it over briefly before nodding and gesturing him into the ballroom. Even though this wasn’t a job, he still took a moment to scan the room for exits, guards, and potential marks, out of habit. They’d recently pulled off a particularly complicated heist in a party much like this one, though without the masks. That probably would’ve made it easier, but they’d still made off with the stolen antiquities they’d been tasked with retrieving and returning to their homeland, along with a few other trinkets that had caught their eyes, because they all had to pay their bills somehow, and they couldn’t all commit bitcoin fraud or whatever it was Futaba did when she was wasn’t gaming.

There was a guestbook on a small table near the door, and he paused, flipping through the pages, suppressing a laugh when he recognized the names of people they’d stolen from, people who had no idea that they were in the same room as the thieves who’d made them pay for their crimes of corruption, exploitation, abuse, and just having way more money than they could ever possibly need when there were people with nothing at all. Ugh. He almost sounded like a proper Phantom Thief, thinking like that. Maybe their idealism was finally rubbing off on him. Though even he had to admit that that was overly cynical of him. He’d believed in that sort of thing himself, once, and maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that he was allowing himself to believe in justice again.

**_definitely not the phantom thieves (10 members, 4 online)_ **

**Goro:** Here

**Ann:** yay!!!!

**Ryuji:** hell yeah finally dude u gotta see our costumes

**Ryuji:** akira looks HOt

**Futaba:** u always say that lol

**Futaba:** also save it for the dms

**Ryuji:** yeah cuz it’s always true

**Goro:** I thought you were supposed to dress up as something you’re not

**Ann:** yeah the idea is to not be recognizable but neither of you really got that memo I guess

**Ryuji:** >:(

He considered the guestbook a moment longer, and then, with a smirk that was hopefully hidden by his mask, picked up the pen and signed his name. He used his right hand, the way he used to do when he was a celebrity, and he signed his full name, which he hadn’t done since he’d been declared dead and started mostly going by Goro among friends and a collection of pseudonyms when he needed a cover story on a job. Let whoever looked at this wonder how a perfect copy of the signature of the dead Detective Prince ended up in the guestbook at a high society masquerade ball.

A red-gloved hand set a glass of champagne down next to the book, and he looked up to see someone in a mask like a medieval European harlequin, leaning on the table in an over-exaggeratedly flirtatious pose. “Come here often?” said Akira, because of course he was dressed like a fucking joker on a playing card. They really were attached to their high school glory days, weren’t they? Again, not that Goro really had a leg to stand on here, with his black raven mask that looked like a combination of his two Metaverse outfits.

“Sorry, I’m meeting my boyfriend,” he said, playfully enough to let Akira know that he recognized him but wanted to have a little bit of fun before he admitted it.

“Such a shame,” said Akira. “I’m sure I could show you a good time.”

“Is that so,” Goro said. “And what kind of good time is a clown supposed to show me?”

“How dare you,” said Akira, voice full of mock indignation. “I’m a court fool, not a clown.”

“Yeah, you’re some kind of fool, all right,” said Goro, jokingly, picking up the champagne Akira had brought for him and very carefully maneuvering it under his beak so that he could drink without making a mess, and then almost spilling it anyway as Akira laughed, bright and clear and God, Goro loved him so much. The champagne was decent, expensive enough to be served at an event with such wealthy hosts, but it was never going to be his favorite drink, not after all the miserable political fundraising events he’d suffered through in high school. At least it wasn’t beer.

“A fool for you,” said Akira, and Goro  _ hated _ him and his dumb shit-eating grin and his stupid jokes, and also he wanted to kiss quite a lot, and of course that was the moment Ryuji chose to make his appearance, hanging over Akira’s shoulder with a plate of appetizers in one hand and a floppy, feathered pirate hat in the other. His mask was, of course, a skull. Anyone else would probably think he was just a little bit too into  _ Pirates of the Caribbean _ .

“Damn, babe, that was bad even for you.” He looked Goro up and down critically and said, “What’re you supposed to be, a sexy plague doctor?”

Goro shrugged. “At least I’m a sexy one. Could be worse.”

“Yeah, not like you really look bad in anything, though,” Ryuji said. “And I got lucky, pirates are already inherently sexy.”

“Goro said I look like a clown,” Akira said, his pout audible in his voice even though his mask hid his mouth.

“I mean, technically you do,” Ryuji said. “But you can pull anything off, too. And it’s like, historical or whatever. It’s classy.” It was occurring to Goro that both he and Akira had made a fatal mistake in their outfit planning, which was that between his beak and Akira’s concealed mouth, neither of them could kiss without taking their masks off. The advantage of Ryuji’s mask, Goro saw now, was that it only covered the top half of his face, and didn’t stick out too far for him to get within kissing range.

“Just what I want to hear,” said Akira. “Historical and classy, that’s me. Not as good as sexy, but I’ll take it.”

“Oh, you’re definitely that too,” said Goro, and he was really regretting the mask. It had seemed like a good idea earlier, between the aesthetic and the inside joke, and now he was realizing how much it got in the way. He’d remembered finding it convenient in high school, but back then he’d wanted to hide his face so that no one could see his expressions, because if no one knew how he felt then no one knew him and that felt safe. But now he was older and wiser and also loved, and he just wanted to be able to kiss his boyfriends without a beak in the way. Akira leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, no pun intended, and Goro nuzzled him with the beak affectionately by way of reciprocation. Probably to anyone watching it looked more weird than romantic, but luckily he didn’t have to care what other people thought about him and his relationships anymore.

When Akira pulled back, Ryuji wrapped one arm around Goro in what started as a very ‘no homo, bro’ sort of hug, back-slapping and all, and then quickly turned into Ryuji brushing a line of kisses across his jawline, evidently deciding that the beak made his face too much of a hassle and the high collar of his jacket made his neck equally inaccessible. The jaw was a very enjoyable compromise, and Goro closed his eyes for a moment and pressed his body closer, until he begrudgingly reminded himself that they were in public, and that since they were no longer in high school, making out on top of the sign-in table was not generally considered acceptable behavior. He extricated himself from his boyfriend’s arms and bonked him gently on the head since he couldn’t properly return the kisses.

“Glad you made it,” said Akira softly, as if he knew that Goro had considered giving up and not coming to the party when he’d had his third last minute change of heart about his outfit. Then again, he could read Goro’s moods pretty well, so maybe he did know.   


“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

“Aw,” Ryuji said, “that’s pretty gay.”

“Guilty as charged,” Goro said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I dunno,” Ryuji said. “Kiss you, probably.”

“Oh no,” Akira deadpanned. “How terrible.”

“Absolutely awful,” Goro agreed. “Whatever will we do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji said. “I get it, you guys think you’re hilarious.” And then, with an arm around each of their shoulders: “Let’s go join the party, instead of bickering in the entrance like an old married… uh, not couple… whatever, let’s go.”

“Throuple,” Goro suggested helpfully.

“No thank you,” said Ryuji. “Now let’s go before everyone else finds the dessert table or else there won’t be anything left.”

“I see what your priorities are,” said Akira, as if the free food wasn’t the reason he attended so many of these kinds of events.

“Yeah,” Ryuji said. “I’m here to kiss my boyfriends and eat all of the fancy rich people food, and as much as I love you guys I would really rather not be out of fancy rich people food.”

“Lead the way,” said Goro.

“Direct action,” said Akira, as if all of their collective dayjob—if you could call it that—didn’t involve stealing from aforementioned rich people in order to punish them for abusing their power and use the formerly ill-gotten wealth to help their victims. But sure, taking food from an all-you-can-eat buffet table at a party they’d been invited to was exactly the same thing. Still, Goro allowed himself to be led deeper into the ballroom as his boyfriends bickered lovingly in his ears about whether or not the food here lived up to the best hors d’oeuvres they’d ever had, and if the best had been at the wedding reception of a tech billionaire whose hard drive they’d copied and then wiped while Yusuke created a distraction by picking a fight with the groom about his taste in architecture, or at their most recent museum gala job, which Goro had no opinion on since he’d been busy sneaking around in the rafters and vents and behind-the-scenes passageways instead of charming the mark. Tonight was meant to celebrate that successful heist, because that, too, had not changed about the Phantom Thieves’ operating procedure since they were teenagers.

He used to be bothered by that, by how much they had kept from a time in their lives that he had witnessed but had been specifically excluded from. And yes, he knew he was more than a little bit responsible for that and no, he didn’t blame them for not trusting him when he had been objectively untrustworthy, but it did make things awkward, all the fond memories and inside jokes and standard practices that had been established without him. He used to pretend to be smug and superior about it, about the fact that  _ he _ was moving on from the person he’d been in high school and  _ they _ were stuck in the past, but that wasn’t really what was happening, and once he’d stopped being so defensive—once he’d convinced himself that he didn’t need to be quite so insecure about his place with them—he could recognize that the only parts of their Phantom Thief glory days they’d kept were the parts worth keeping.

It wasn’t that they were nostalgic for their fifteen minutes of fame, but that they’d figured out something then about who they wanted to be, and how they wanted to live their lives, and what kind of impact they wanted to have on the world, and because they didn’t know how to give up, ever, even when it would be in their best interests, they didn’t let go of any of that. They’d just added a little more logistical practicality and more concrete goals. So instead of joining the workforce and paying their bills and settling down into respectable members of society, they clung to the idea that they could change society, could shape it into something more fair and just and kind one act of grand larceny at a time. And once he got past the layers of cynicism he’d built up to protect himself from his own soft heart, he could appreciate that, and even enjoyed it for his own reasons. He hadn’t really gotten to properly part of the group back then, after all, and it was…  _ nice _ , he supposed, to get to experience it now, in its more mature form, now that they’d figured out how to not shout about their crimes in public at every opportunity. It was nice to be included, and to believe in something, and to have friends he could trust to back him up, commiserate with him when things went wrong, and celebrate with him when things went right. It was almost like getting to live out what his last, unfinished year of high school could’ve been like, if he’d been in a different—better, safer—place at the start of it, except exponentially better because he didn’t have to take exams.

“What’s up?” said Ryuji, jolting him out of his thoughts, because Ryuji was pretty good at recognizing the look on his face when he got lost inside his own head.

“Just thinking,” he said.

“Something deep and cryptic, right?” Akira said, ruffling his hair, and Goro once again regretted that Akira’s mask covered his entire face, because he could tell by his voice that he had a very kissable smirk behind it.

“Thinking about how glad I am to be here,” he said. “Very mysterious, full of hidden meanings.”

“Here? Like, at this party?” Ryuji said. “Because I was just thinking that it’s not really that fun if there’s no crime to do, and the food really isn’t that great after the first few bites.”

“Told you so,” said Akira.

Ryuji opened his mouth, no doubt to restart the debate about the best buffet they’d ever eaten at, but Goro cut him off. “You know perfectly well I meant here with the two of you.”

“Did we?” Akira said innocently. “I’m not so sure, you haven’t kissed us yet.”

“ _ You _ haven’t kissed me either, asshole,” said Ryuji, and Goro took that as his cue to tilt the beak of his mask up and make out with his boyfriends in front of the dessert table. The lips of Akira’s mask were cold and tasted like plastic, but Ryuji’s were warm and yielding, and at least he managed to not poke anyone’s eye out with his beak, so he was going to go ahead and consider the evening a success.  


**Author's Note:**

> title from Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera, because I didn't have a title and it's after midnight and I need to go to sleep and I panicked and asked my roommates and this is what they said, thanks guys <3
> 
> I did come unfortunately close to giving it a title from High School Never Ends because that's like, almost thematically appropriate but entirely the wrong mood
> 
> the group chat has 10 members now because Morgana finally got his own phone but he was too busy wreaking havoc on the sushi table to be texting
> 
> I have lots of feelings about pegoryugoro and also trans akechi, and also masks as both a metaphor and an aesthetic, come talk abt any and all of those things with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/selkie_au_lover)


End file.
